Mom falters. She swallows whatever she was about to say and, like the rest of them, offers the default line. "Of course I love her. She might not be my daughter by birth, but she’s my daughter. I’ll always love her. I just want what’s best for her."
"Of course." I walk back to my desk, put the system on standby, and head for the door. But she’s still standing there, refusing the dismissal.
"Is there anything else?"
"I just... could I tag along and see your date?"
I scoff under my breath and shake my head. She doesn’t believe me. "Sure. If it’ll make you feel better."
We take the lift down to the ground floor, and there Sophie stands. She’s dressed differently today, in a shorter dress that brushes her knees, a dainty purse clasped in front of her, her hair styled in soft waves. On a g
